"No."
"We must have a meal together—I want to see you eat—I want to drink with you."
"Very well, I'll come. I'll get over early in the afternoon.... Now I must say good-bye."
"When I see you next I may have heard from Baker. Then we shall know our fate."
"Our fate...?"
"Yes, for if Baker can't take my stuff, no one else will, and my last chance is gone."
"Don't think of such a thing, dear."
"No, I won't. I'll think of you, dream of you—whenever you are so gracious as to let me sleep."
He stood up, and drew her head down to his shoulder, holding it there with trembling hands, while his lips sought her face. Her mouth was against his sleeve, and she kissed it while he kissed her cheek and neck. For a full minute they stood together thus, and when they drew apart, the first star hung a timid candle above the burnt-out fires of the west.